Passing Ships
by Purrrrfectpixie
Summary: Set 8 years before the Water 7/Enies Lobby arcs. A top secret government training base, home of the cadets soon to make up the next CP9 unit, is infiltrated by a tiny spy, with some interesting tricks up her sleeve... KakuXOC maybe, if you squint


**Greetings! I am very happy to present this newly beta-ed edition of Passing Ships. Let us all take this moment to thank the magnificent Reidluver for her excellent editing! Thank you sooooooooo much, Beta-sama! genuflection commences Myself, and my readers are all in your debt!**

**Now, without further ado...the Disclaimer!**

**Ladies and Gentlemen, the only thing I own is my poor beleaguered brain, and my OC, the lovely, kooky Miramae. One Piece and all it's characters are the property of Oda-sama, Toei Animation, and Funimation, so no fussin'! **

**Thank you! **

Passing Ships

Chapter 1

A small boat crept up to a sandbar next to the cliff lined shore of a fortified island. At first glance, it became obvious that the cliffs were supposed to serve as a natural defense to this minor world government outpost. On this tiny isle, there was only one way to access the main base, and that was on the _opposite_ side from the sandbar. Someone should have told that to the dark shadow creeping up the cliff-face.

The shadow paused at the summit to peer down at its intended target: the training grounds of Cypher Pol's most promising potential agents. "My, my, CP luxury at its finest," whispered the odd little shade, staring critically at the cluster of low-lying, featureless cement buildings sprawled within the imposing outer wall.

"Well, goody, this doesn't look too hard. Typical pompous government idiots, always assuming all threats will be coming from the point of 'least' resistance—the front door. They've focused all their security at the front of the base and that's where I'll find the archives as well as my objective."

The figure that now began to peel off the climbing harness was tightly muscled and athletic, but petite and shapely; decidedly feminine. The girl readjusted her uniform, a solid black bodysuit, covered by a loose-fitting tunic of the same color, all the while running over her mission specs.

"Mission directives: keep to the shadows, avoid any and all contact with base personnel. If discovered, use any means necessary to eliminate all witnesses (quietly), then escape immediately, whether objective has been obtained or not. Maintain illusory cover at all times. Mission objective: obtain proof of the existence of the rumored 'Cypher Pol 9'. Sounds easy enough. I just hope I can keep up my illusions without losing concentration," she thought aloud. "Haven't been very good at that lately. Sheeesh, why did I have to get _both_ abilities? Stamina is so much easier to deal with than chi! Ah, what the heck? Better get this little 'exercise' over with, the sooner, the better."

She set off at an easy, confidant pace, trusting the moonless night and her own skill with illusion to keep her hidden from sight. Reaching the wall, she scaled it quickly, fingers finding purchase in the hidden cracks and crevices, and feet covered in thin shoes supporting her weight. At the top of the wall she balanced for an instant, crouched low, then sprang to the roof of the nearest building with an acrobatic flip.

Flitting across the rooftops, she made her way over the barracks to the administrative wing of the base, avoiding the courtyard in between, not wanting to chance being seen. She knew she had found the right building when she saw two sentries posted outside the door. _Bingo, there it is! Records room. Now to find a likely looking window to squeeze into._ She crawled around the roof, peeking into each window, lowering herself down from the edge, bat-like.

Locating the cabinet filled room, one of the thin, short blades strapped to her back served as a lever to slip the lock open, allowing her to push one of the panes ajar. Once again, she dangled from the edge, swinging gently, soundlessly, into the room. _Okay, easy part's done, now to find the stinkin' proof! Hell, that shouldn't be too hard considering I_ _can't see more than two feet in front of my face! _The half-pint spy stamped her foot in frustration, then froze, whirled about, and clicked the window shut as quietly as possible. She slid to the floor under the window just as the watchman passed by, making his rounds. Thankfully, he didn't notice anything amiss, for if he had walked just a little slower, he would have heard a rather poorly stifled sigh of relief.

"Phwooooooof!" _That was smart. Why didn't you just hang your head out the window and scream, "I'm he-ere!" That would be fun, wouldn't it?_ she thought as she smacked herself on the forehead. The woman sat up and started to rummage through the drawers nearest the window. _Progress reports, individual trainee files, training schedules . . . well, this is all worthless. I won't be finding the file I need on this side of the room, that's for sure._

She stood up from examining the drawers and peered around. _It's__ probably all the way on the other side, the darkest part of the room, as it figures. Times like this, I really wish I could just transform into a cat and be done with it! Then at least I would be able to see everything in here. Wait a sec . . . . cat . . . duh! I am sooo thick—I could just use that one technique I memorized!_

Refraining from slapping herself again, the girl settled herself on the ground, closed her eyes, and focused inward. The illusion she had been holding of a featureless, blurred shadow dropped and her form took on a barely visible glow of aura. There was a tiny flash of chi that condensed, settling at once on her eyes. When she opened them, they seemed to glow for a few seconds, and when the light faded, she was able to see into even the darkest corners of the room. "Well, now that's _much_ better! That file is as good as found!" she whispered, grinning wickedly.

Back in the barracks, a door was shoved open with a bang, and a tall, lanky lad walked out. A calm, purposeful exterior was belied by the tension in his stride, and slightly raised shoulders. His progress was halted when a jeering voice called to him from the open doorway.

"Hey there, leaving the fun so soon? Hope we didn't say anything to _offend_ you!" it said, sarcastically. The owner of the voice stepped out into the dark. He was a lean, handsome fellow, with a proud (if somewhat sketchy) mustache, and a mane of long, black hair pulled back in a heavy braid. His air of self-importance was almost suffocating.

"Where are you off to, Pinocchio? Heading to the practice field? Better not, Lucci's out there, and you remember what happened to the last poor sap who interrupted his practice. By the time Lucci was done with him, they say his own mother wouldn't have recognized him! We can't have that happening to our little wooden boy, now can we?" The ungainly youth turned back to the speaker, glaring silently at the elegant, slim figure lounging against the edge of the door. Sneering laughter could be heard drifting out of the room behind. As the light from the doorway struck his face, the reason for the last mocking jab became evident.

The boy, who looked to be about fifteen, had an earnest, stern jawed countenance with a broad, generous mouth that seemed ready to smile at a moment's notice, indicating a normally cheerful, fun-loving nature. Yet, he had two rather unusual features: wide, uncommonly rounded eyes, and a nose that stretched a good inch and a half longer than average. The length alone probably wouldn't have seemed quite so odd if it weren't for its peculiar square-ish shape. The over-all result was slightly mask-like, an image he apparently tried to disguise with a high-collared jacket, and long brimmed cap over orange-red hair. It seemed he was accustomed to being the butt of a good many jokes, but still couldn't stand to deal with them for too long.

His hand clutched tightly around the katana strapped to his side. "Where I go, or what I do on my own time, is _none_ of your concern, Jyabura." His voice was low and steady, but his eyes still held a torrid glare. His antagonist's face slid into a truly wolf-like snarl, and he leaned forward, fingers flexing, itching for a fight.

"Whoa-ho, there, wood-face! I'm _making_ it my concern! Just what are you thinking Kaku, charging out of here with a blade you can barely handle? Off to fight Lucci for the top spot, just to get a little recognition? Hate to crash your delusions of grandeur, but _I'm_ the only one around here with a chance at beating him. Someone of _your_ skill level couldn't hope to challenge me, much less him, not when you've only mastered barely half of the Rokushiki." At this outburst, the taller young man's demeanor took a turn that baffled his tormentors.

He relaxed his tense posture, threw his head back, and laughed. A full, easy, teasing laugh. This response had his rival's eyes pop with rage and he lunged at the maddening, laughing form. Several of the boys in the room leaped out to restrain him, begging him desperately not to start a fight in the barracks. Kaku folded his arms and eased back on his long legs, leaning against a pillar with a wry grin.

"I see, so that's what this is about!", he chuckled. "Your problem isn't with me, it seems. You are _so_ determined to prove _yourself_ by fighting Lucci, you're convinced that everyone around you _must_ have the same goal, and that worries you, doesn't it? Hahahaha! Well, I guess I can't fault you for having an ambition. Still, I am very sorry . . ."

"Sorry for what, sorry for _breathing_?" barked an incensed Jyabura. Kaku's face lost its jovial grin, and in its place, a blank, cold stare emerged, chilling all observers—even the brash wolf. The boy who had been the object of all their laughter suddenly became an ominous presence.

"No, I'm sorry I ever lowered myself to feel offended by the petty insults of a poor fool. A foolish little liar, trying to hide his fear of his own inadequacies by convincing himself he's better than everyone else. It must be a sad day, when you have to step on the ambitions of someone you know _nothing_ about, just because you can no longer believe your own lies." The stunned group took a few nervous steps back as he pulled himself away from the pillar, straightened, and did a crisp about-face. He strode away, confidence renewed in his step. No one followed.

He found himself halfway to the practice grounds, when he realized his mistake. Kaku shook his head and chuckled to himself good-naturedly as he turned in the other direction, heading instead for the courtyard in the middle of the base. "Eh, that Jyabura. Now he's even got me thinking like him. What's his problem anyway? Seems like he considers everyone a target lately. Wish he'd just hurry up and fight Lucci already, get this stupid inferiority complex of his out of the friggin' way."

He absently scratched the back of his head. "Ah well, it's none of my business, I guess. I've got too many other things to worry about." When he finally reached the courtyard, his casual air changed to one of determined silence. He tugged his collar higher around his face and pulled his hat lower. Walking to one end of the yard he unsheathed his katana and began practicing.

The area he had entered was like an oasis amidst the mass of concrete. The courtyard was longer than it was wide, stretching almost the length of the base itself. The only trees on the island were located in a tiny park on one side.

As he moved through the katas, it became evident that he really did know what he was doing, despite Jyabura's claim. His movements were calculated and well studied, but lacked a certain grace. He knew every pose, every strike and parry, their individual purposes, and how they fit together, but their flow seemed a bit awkward and forced. It was for this reason he practiced so diligently, though he was the most skilled in his class, according to his sensei. He was one of the few junior agents authorized to carry a real sword on missions unlike most, who still sported the simple bokken.

The same problem seemed to plague him in his mastery of the Rokushiki. He knew all six forms, and was considered a master in four, but two still seemed to elude his understanding. Soru had him ramming painfully into walls, and Rankyaku . . . well, it just didn't work. He knew he had enough power to execute the move but for some reason, it wouldn't cut. All he ever ended up producing was an enormous shock wave, that more often than not, sent his fellow trainees, and anyone else who happened to be within a mile's radius, flying helplessly backwards. Devastating, to be sure, but not deadly enough to satisfy his superiors. Just one more reason he preferred training alone.

Outside the records room, a diminutive ghostie shimmied up one of the roof supports. On reaching the relative safety of the roof, she pulled out the file she had found and flipped quickly through it's pages. _Special Unit Selection_ read the label on the front. _Hmph. Looks like a lot of military hoo-ha to me, but I'm pretty sure Dragon-sama, or one of his subordinates can make some sense of it. All I was told to find was some mention of CP9 on paper, and this is that. That's good enough for me,_ she thought, stuffing the folder back into the pocket of her tunic.

Catching a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned her face to the practice grounds. _What the . . .who on earth would be out training this late?_ She scampered closer, using the roofs as a personal highway. Reaching the building closest to the field, she flopped down on her belly, and slithered to the edge. Peeping up over the ridge of the gutter, she saw a young man at the far end of the field. He was too far away to see very clearly, but she could tell from his skill, and the self-confidence in his bearing that this was not a callow boy.

He was a seasoned fighter, probably about nineteen or twenty. He was running through the forms of a martial art she had never seen before, but the ferocity and power of each move intrigued her. Eyes gleaming with excitement, she watched as he attacked a series of straw dummies. He dashed from one target to the next, leaving a spray of fine straw bits in his wake. Her eyes dilated strangely when he performed an incredible jump, then seemed to bound through the air on nothing, descending on the targets from above. _I'd better memorize that one for later. Could prove useful,_ she speculated, paying careful attention as he used the technique again.

After awhile, her concentration wavered from the movements themselves, to the person making them. His wavy black hair was tied back low on his neck, and he had abandoned the top half of his uniform due to the warmth of the calm night. A pale, muscular physique was displayed, if somewhat blurred from the constant motion. She thought she spotted some sort of marking on his back, but it was too distant to tell. Her expression melted from one of devoted focus to one that can only be described as "gooey." _OoOoOoOoOoooooh! I bet he's a real hottie! I wish I could just get a closer look! Me like!_

However, as soon as she finished that squealing thought, his upper torso swelled to an unbelievable size, mid-leap. Pale skin became a dark ocher, covered with black . . . spots? And was that . . . a _tail!? _

_Gaaauuaawrsh! Oye, never mind! A Zoan-type Devils Fruit user? Wooo, that is one monstah kitty! Too scary for this 'lil cutie!_ She rolled away from the edge, bashing her forehead with her fist, as if trying to rid herself of the sight she had just witnessed.

_Hold the phone . . . don't Zoan-types have heightened senses? Crap, what if he catches my scent?! Oh, shit-shit-_**shit**_!_ She sat up abruptly, testing the breeze anxiously. She almost fainted with relief on the discovery that she was down wind. _Dayumn, that was way to close. I'd better scoot before the wind changes._ Hopping up, she darted away, aiming for the shortcut across the courtyard.

**Well, there you have it, the first chapter. Hope you liked it! (Just for the record, since this seemed to be a matter of confusion, it wasn't Kaku Miramae saw in the practice field. Just wanted to make that clarification) **

**Now bare with me folks, the next few weeks are shaping up to verrrrrry crazy, so the next chapter might be awhile in emerging. No pointy things! **

**Many thanks, and please review(be honest please, no "it was cute", or "it sux"!) Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are met with much throwing of hairballs! Nyeheheh! **


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